If words could envelop fire, I’d whisper softly into a quiet note and let the pyre in my lonely coffer spill out it’s smokey dispatch. Letting pathos glow inside carrion’s beat, I would endeavor this note reach a messenger with quick feet, so that you would read it before I became nothing more than a ruin, damned by it’s own occasion. I would speak with a gentle urgency, through teeth like embers of brimstone. " Let not your tender humor steer you in a direction that would wilt us both Fan the flames that have consumed me, It’s a burn that fuels our passion I love you and the pain that you bring, you are the brightness in the sky, and the darkness of night. You are the sting of broken flesh, and the sweet release of blood that flows. You are the healing of my blackened benevolence, and the anger in my wisdom. You are my second eye, and my heaviest anchor. You are the spark, and the kindle. You are my Queen.”
Sunday, October 23, 2016
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